Marked Men
by HousethatJackBuilt
Summary: House and Wilsons friendship is tested when they accidentally kill a member of the mafia and dump the body. Now they are being hunted by both the mafia and the police and are struggling to find a way out alive. Please read and review!


**Summary:** House and Wilsons friendship is tested when they accidentally kill a member of the mafia and dump the body. Now they are being hunted by both the mafia and the police and are struggling to find a way out alive. Please read and review!

**Authors Note:** I decided to start another story as I'm almost finished with my other one. This fic mainly focuses on House and Wilson and the tests their friendship withstands as they both deal with what they've done in their own ways. It also focuses on a very nasty Mafia boss and how House and Wilson are hunted by both sides of the law. Other House characters will make appearances too.

Rating is M for swearing and some violence.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own House or any of its characters *sulks*

The neon sign that flashed above the nightclub's entrance cast a pink, green and blue glow on the faces of the two doctors as they looked up at it. One doctor, Wilson, looked at it with uncertainty and the other doctor, House, looked at it with a "there's alcohol in there, let's get drunk" look.

The nightclub had only been open a few weeks and ever since it opened there had been a real buzz about the place. House had heard a lot of good things about it from other people who worked in the hospital and after a hard day's work of trying to do everything he could to get out of clinic duty; he thought this would be the perfect place to unwind with his friend. Wilson on the other hand wasn't so certain, "Do we have to go in here House?" he whined, looking up at the sign that simply read 'Lucky Joes'.

"What? You don't want to get drunk in one of the best places in town?" asked the older man.

"We could easily get drunk in a quiet bar somewhere. One where you don't have to pay about twenty bucks just to get through the door."

"Well it's good that you brought enough money to pay the both of us in then isn't it?" House replied with a smirk. "Come on Jimmy," House said, putting his arm around Wilsons shoulders a little more roughly than Wilson would have preferred, "Let's just see what it's like and hey, if I'm feeling really generous, I'll even buy the first round."

Wilson raised his eyebrows at that remark.

"Well when I say I'll buy the first round I mean I'll go up to the bar and order the drinks, I'll probably use your cash to pay for them though."

Wilson gave in. "Fine," he replied with a sigh.

They had to wait in a ten minute line and pay ten dollars each to get in, much to Wilsons outrage. But once they stepped inside and swing and Big Band music filled House's ears, he immediately knew that he would like the place. This wasn't the kind of nightclub that was full of teenagers vomiting on their own shoes or where the music was louder than Woodstock with strobe lights that could cause seizures, this place was classy.

The interior of the club was huge. Seating booths lined the walls and tables and chairs surrounded the large wooden dance floor in the middle of the room. House's eyes were immediately drawn to the swing band that was playing on a raised platform on the other side of the dance floor. Each member was wearing a tuxedo and the singer was singing through an old fashioned swing microphone that gleamed in the glow of the golden overhead lights. House let his eyes wander over to the other side of the room in the direction of the bar and saw that there was about half a dozen Blackjack, Baccarat, Craps and Poker tables dotted around the room, each one surrounded by people trying to land the jackpot. There were also a few fruit machines which House decided he would have a go on later. He looked at Wilson who was gazing around the room taking everything in.

"Well, was I right to bring us here or was I right to bring us here?"

"Boy do I feel underdressed! I feel like I should be wearing a tux and smoking a cigar."

"Well I'm sure there will be a couple of drunk guys we can swap clothes with later," replied House as he made his way to the bar with Wilson following.

They both took a seat at the bar on the high black and silver stools and House ordered two piña coladas.

"Listen one of us is going to have to stay relatively sober tonight seeing as I bought my car and-" Wilson stopped in mid sentence when he saw that House had nearly drank all of his drink within ten seconds. "Looks like it's going to be me then," he said, taking a sip of his cocktail.

"What would I do without you Jimmy?" House said as he turned and looked toward the dance floor. He looked at the people dancing and the people sitting down who were also watching the people dancing. He couldn't help looking at people and studying their body language, it's just something he did naturally. If he didn't notice the little things about people that others may miss, he probably wouldn't be as good a doctor as he was.

His attention was immediately drawn to five men, all wearing black suits and sitting around one of the bigger tables, when they started waving and shouting greetings to a man who was coming down a set of stairs that led up to a large balcony just above where the band was playing. House guessed that the small room up on the balcony was an office. Probably belongs to the owner or manager, House thought.

The man who was making his way down the stairs, the man the others were waving to, was rather overweight. His stomach hung over the waistline of his black trousers and he looked like he was having trouble just getting down the stairs. He had greying black hair and wore a lot of gold jewellery. Judging by his weight and how out of breath he was, along with other symptoms he spotted, House guessed that the man would probably have a heart attack within the next year. Two of the men who were sitting at the table got up to greet him and shook his hand. One of them pulled up a chair for the overweight man and he sat down with them. House guessed he was probably somebody important because as soon as he sat down, one of the five men was making his way over to the bar to get him a drink.

"You know, it's rude to stare," Wilson told House, interrupting his thoughts.

"That's what my dentist keeps telling me every time I look down her blouse, weird huh?" House replied.

The man from the table arrived at the bar and ordered a bottle of champagne and House was not surprised when he walked away without paying.

"I'm surprised that you can get anything in this place for free," exclaimed Wilson, noticing the man's freebee.

"He's obviously friends with the owner or manager Einstein," said House, nodding towards the table where the men were sitting.

Wilson looked over. "I didn't know The Sopranos came in here," he said feigning amazement.

"And just think, I spotted all of that through _staring_," said House, narrowing his piercing, sapphire eyes. He ordered two more drinks and as the night wore on both House and Wilson forgot all about the five men.

After an evening full of swing music, gambling and cocktails, House and Wilson were ready to head home. The place was starting to empty out and at 12:15, they both made their way outside. House felt a little drunk but felt a bit better when the cold air hit him. Wilson had only had a couple of drinks and wasn't even tipsy so he knew he was okay to drive.

As they were making their way towards Wilson's car, noises of distress drew their attention down a litter strewn alley way they were passing. Both men stopped and saw a man in a black suit in some sort of physical struggle with a pretty brunette woman in a purple dress.

"Get off me you bastard!" she shouted. This apparently angered the man even further, far enough to give her a hard slap across the face.

"What did you call me you little bitch?" he said, grabbing her neck with one hand and shoving her against the wall violently.

"Hey, stop that!" shouted Wilson, heading down the alley toward the fighting couple.

"Wilson just leave it," House shouted after Wilson, popping a Vicodin for his throbbing leg. He rolled his eyes when Wilson ignored him and House limped after him as quick as he could. He really wasn't in the mood to get into a fight tonight. The couple were probably off their faces and he didn't feel like getting involved with their little domestic.

"Just stay the fuck out of this pal," said the man rather aggressively.

Wilson looked at the brunette who was now holding her stinging cheek. "Are you alright?"

"Hey! Didn't you hear me?" demanded the man, grabbing Wilson by the collar. "I said stay the fuck out of it!" He pushed Wilson backwards who almost collided into House who had now caught up.

"You done enough crime fighting for tonight? Come on, let's go," said House taking hold of Wilson's arm. He looked at the man in the black suit and recognized him as the man who had been to the bar and got a free bottle of champagne. This made House want to get out of there even more; he had a feeling that this was not the kind of guy you'd want to mess with.

"Yeah, get out of here college boy. Me and this little whore have got some things to sort out," he spat and grabbed her violently by the hair, making the brunette cry out in pain.

This pushed Wilson into action and he stormed over to the man and grabbed him violently.

"Wilson!" House cried and limped over to the scuffling men. Why the fuck did this have to happen tonight? House thought with frustration.

The man in the black suit was in a rage now and threw a punch at Wilson which connected with a loud crack against his nose. Wilson threw a punch of his own which made a dull thud when it hit the man in the side of the head. The brunette was backed up against a dumpster now, silent tears running down her face. House was pulling at Wilson trying to diffuse the situation. With the risk of getting a fist in his face as well, House stood in front of Wilson putting himself in the middle of the punch up and tried to get the other man to back off. This only seemed to make the man angrier and he leaned over House's shoulder grabbing for the Oncologist, pushing House back against Wilson.

Wilson gave the man a hard shove in the shoulder and House pushed his torso, trying to put some distance between him and the very pissed off guy. It was completely unanticipated and just a coincidence that House and Wilson happened to push the man at the same time. But the force of both of their pushes combined caused the man to stumble and lose his balance.

It was as if it happened in slow motion. House, Wilson and the brunette all watched as the man fell to the floor. He fell down, down, a look of shock on his face. Everything went silent. Nothing could be heard except for House's exhale of breath, the woman's quiet sobs and Wilson's heavy breathing. By the time House noticed the large grey cinderblock on the floor behind the falling man it was too late. The silence was shattered by a sickeningly loud crack as the man's neck connected with the edge of the cinderblock and his body went limp on the pavement. The woman let out a small scream and House rushed into action. Wilson seemed to be frozen on the spot.

House knelt down beside the man, ignoring the pain it caused his leg and checked for a pulse. His eyes flashed with fear as he couldn't locate one. But House knew, he knew as soon as the man's neck connected with the cinderblock that a fall at that angle and that force would probably cause severe damage to his spinal cord. Depending on the severity of the injury, sometimes the victim survived with no problems afterward. Sometimes the victim survived but with neurological problems. And sometimes the victim could die almost immediately.

"Is... is he...?" Wilson couldn't finish the sentence. He was used to death; he was an Oncologist for Christ sakes! But what he wasn't used to was _causing_ death.

House looked up at Wilson with his deep blue, mesmerizing eyes and shook his head. "I-I think he died from spinal shock."

The brunette let out a strangled sob and Wilson closed his eyes and put his hands to his face. House felt sick. Normally he couldn't give a damn if a patient in the hospital died. He just told himself that the world was a cruel place and that life goes on. But he and Wilson had contributed to this man's death, even if it was an accident, and they would either go to prison for a long time or if this man was who House thought he was, would experience something far worse than prison.

"What have you done?" cried the distressed woman.

"I-I'm so... sorry," whispered Wilson, never taking his big brown eyes off the dead man. "We'll call the police."

House sharply looked up at Wilson and the brunette continued, beginning to panic, "That won't do you any good! Do you have any fucking idea who you've just killed? He was part of the mafia; he was a fucking made man!"

House felt his stomach drop to his feet and Wilson looked deathly pale.

"I have to get out of here. I have to get out of here; they'll come looking for me once they find out what's happened. I have to go!" cried the woman getting more panicked by the second. With surprising speed in her high heels the woman started to sprint down the alleyway.

"Wait!" Wilson shouted after her.

"Get her back Wilson!" House ordered.

Wilson ran after her but she made it out of the alley before he did and jumped in a taxi, speeding away into the night and leaving Wilson to stare after the cab.

When Wilson made his way back to House he was already dialing numbers on his cell phone. House stood up and snatched the phone out of Wilson's hand before he could press the call button.

"What are you doing House? We have to call the police!"

"Did you not hear what she just said Wilson? We've just killed a member of the fucking mafia! We won't be safe if we go to the police."

Wilson locked eyes with House and had to fight down the urge to vomit when he realized what House was suggesting.

Midnight shadows played upon House's face, making his eyes appear a brilliant blue in the dark. Locking eyes with Wilson, House said in a deadly serious tone, "We have to get rid of the body."


End file.
